Ruffled Feathers
by abstract moth
Summary: Mustang's team finds out just how dangerous boredom can be. One day, sick of doing endless paperwork, Mustang decides to prank his youngest subordinate, giving him a fake mission. Surprisingly, Ed falls for it. As expected, mayhem ensures.


_Author's Note:_

_I know that I should be working on my multi chapter fic, but I wanted to post something. __I actually wrote the draft of this story a while ago, but only recently got around to finishing it. It's one of my first attempts at comedy so I hope it's alright._

_Reviews are always appreciated. _

_I own nothing._

* * *

Ed stared at his commanding officer, eyes wide with exasperation.

"You can't be serious," he said.

Mustang shrugged, resisting the urge to smile.

"Believe me, Fullmetal, I wish I was joking," he said.

Ed read the file once more and frowned deeply. He plopped onto the couch, staring at the papers.

"And these are my orders, right?" Ed said, "I have to obey them."

Mustang twirled a pen in his hand, struggling to hide his amusement.

"Unfortunately," he said, "After all, I told you what being a State Alchemist meant. You're a dog of the military. That means following orders, no matter what they are or how... insignificant they may seem."

Ed furrowed his brow and groaned. "I know, but I would never imagine to be ordered to do _this_."

Mustang shrugged. "Orders are orders."

Ed sighed and flipped through the file with disgust.

"When do I have to do it?"

"Tomorrow," Mustang blurted. For a second, he feared that his response had been too quick, that Ed would catch on to his ruse.

However, Fullmetal merely folded the file in half and haphazardly shoved it into his pocket.

"Fine," he said, rising to his feet. "Just keep your mouth shut about this."

"Alright," Mustang said, returning to his paperwork.

"I mean it, Mustang. If one person-"

"I promise I won't tell anyone," Mustang reassured.

Of course he wasn't going to tell anyone, that would ruin all the fun.

Ed huffed and left the room, mumbling under his breath.

The second the door closed, Mustang let out a sigh of relief.

It was pure luck that Ed hadn't gotten suspicious. Mustang was almost certain that he would have called his bluff.

He leaned back into his chair, a wicked grin crossing his face. The hard part was over. Now, he just had to sit back and enjoy the show.

Casually, Mustang took out his schedule and made a note to get his camera fixed by tomorrow.

* * *

The next day, about an hour after lunch, the door to the office banged open.

Mustang had been in the middle of handing some paperwork to Hawkeye. Even without looking, he could guess who it was. He had been waiting all day for him to show up.

A single glance confirmed his theory.

Edward Elric was standing in the doorway. To say that he looked frazzled would be an understatement. He was completely soaked, drops of water were collecting into a puddle on the floor. His braid had come undone, hair falling into a clumped mess over his shoulders. An assortment of feathers and twigs clung to his coat and were tangled in his hair. It looked like he had been wrestling inside a chicken coup.

Oh, it was glorious.

Around the office, Mustang's subordinates seemed rather surprised, eyes wide and mouths hanging open with shock.

Havoc was the first to speak.

"Hey, Chief," he said slowly. "You alright there?"

Ed didn't respond. He was staring at Mustang, an expression of pure scorn on his face.

"_You_," he said. "You knew this would happen, didn't you? YOU KNEW."

Mustang bit his tongue, trying to resist the urge to smile.

Around him, his subordinates were rising to their feet. They glanced cautiously between Ed and the Colonel. Beside him, Mustang could feel Hawkeye glaring at him. And without even meaning to, Mustang's lips curled into a smile.

Ed's eyes went wide.

"You _bastard_. This is an abuse of power!" he cried.

"Edward," Feury said, taking a tentative step forward. "Are you okay?"

Ed said nothing, but leaned backwards and collapsed against the doorway. He was shaking, a mix of rage and laughter.

He was promptly cut off, by the loud ringing of a phone.

More than grateful for the distraction, Falman walked over and picked up the receiver.

"Warrant Officer Falman speaking," he said. There was a long pause. "Um... I'm really sorry sir, but could you please repeat that?" There was another pause, even longer than the first. "Al... alright, sir. I'll be sure to tell him." Falman put down the receiver. "Um, Colonel. You have a message from General Grumman."

Mustang blinked. "Very well. Would you please repeat it?"

"Sir?" Falman asked, eyes flashing towards Ed.

"Is there a problem?" Mustang asked.

"Well, I... um..." Falman cleared his throat. "You want me to recite the message?"

"Yes," Mustang said.

"Verbatim?"

"Yes, please proceed," Mustang said.

Falman pursed his lips before speaking.

"The General said that at approximately 11:31 am, local MPs observed Edward Elric repeatedly agitating a group of geese along the river. Upon inquiry, he claimed that due to a spike in the goose population he had been ordered to relocate the geese to another site," Falman paused. "The General then commented and I repeat, 'Well played. I honestly didn't think Mustang could pull it off. Tell him, I'll give him his 10,000 cents by tomorrow.'"

"You bastard!" Ed yelled, staggering forward. "I spent three hours trying to gather those stupid geese before the MPs mustered up the courage to inform me that there was no such goose population problem. People were taking pictures, Mustang!"

Of course Mustang already knew of the pictures. They were sitting in a folder on his desk.

In hindsight, Mustang figured that he should have just apologised. Or at least come up with an excuse that he was testing Fullmetal's loyalty or something.

Instead, he smirked and said, "So I take it you had a very _foul_ day."

Ed blushed, his cheeks turning a bright red. Before anyone could stop him. he lunged forward, grabbed the nearest object off the closest desk, and hurled it at Mustang.

It just so happened that said object was a pair of scissors.

Mustang ducked, the blades swinging over his head. They collided into the wall with a loud thud.

With a furious shriek, Edward turned heel and slammed the door behind him.

Mustang lifted his head and looked at the wall behind him. The scissors had sunk in so deep that only the handles could be seen.

Mustang would later frame those scissors. If that annoyed Edward, he never showed it.

Which was fine, because about a month later, Mustang was attacked by a group of angry racoons.


End file.
